


Chasing Pirates

by Squidbitchbutyucky (Squidbitch)



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: I have no excuses im going to be honest, Insomnia, Little a self-hatred, Masturbation, Other, Pining, Vibrators, Yes this is my third nsfw fic in a row, because im like that, bless his poor neighbors souls, hes also very loud, i always forget how sad juno was in s1 and i love writing it so much, just an incredible amount of pining, nureyev isnt actually there but its a sexy thought isnt it?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25476466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squidbitch/pseuds/Squidbitchbutyucky
Summary: Sleep is hard to come by, for a man like Juno Steel.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 7
Kudos: 92





	Chasing Pirates

**Author's Note:**

> Juno’s afab in this one, and Nureyevs body isnt gone into a lot of detail on, (though hes trans in this one too because i said so).

Juno has always gotten stuck on things. Never able to let things go, really. Ever since he was little he held grudges like a stain holds onto cheap fabric. He fixes on things until it's a problem for himself and everyone else. His inability to stop thinking about whatever it is at that moment doesn't even have to incorporate any amount of anger. 

This time, late at night, city lights filtering through the blinds of his bedroom window as he downs another gulp of bourbon. He's angry about what he’s currently fixed on, but more than that, he’s painfully focussed on it. He doesn’t know how to get away from it, how to stop thinking about it. About him. 

It's getting late. Nearly three in the morning. Spent a long time pouring over martian artifacts, piles of papers. It's been days that he’s stayed up without a wink, trying to know his next course of action. Not to mention the ongoing cases. It's been so long since he’s really slept. He should. Wouldn’t want to pass out from exhaustion while running after some criminal. 

So he takes off his shirt, his binder, and pants and lays down in bed. 

And lays there.

And lays there.

By the time he figures out his body isn’t having it, hes kicked off his blankets, pulled them back on, moved his pillow around a fuck ton to get comfortable, taken off his underwear to see if  _ that  _ was the problem, and growled up at the ceiling like it’d sing him a lullaby if he got mad enough. Briefly he considers calling someone to have a badly timed hookup, and decides that it would not be a good idea. It's late, everyone probably wants to sleep. More than that, it's late and Juno doesn't want to wait for someone to show up. 

Well, unless it was one person in particular. He’d wait a long damn time if it meant a specific man would show up. 

Juno has a lot of anger towards Peter Nureyev, a lot of questions he still needs answered. Still, Juno has more than a grudge on him. He’s been thinking about him since he left. The damn thief is part of the reason he can’t sleep, if he’s being honest with himself. 

But he doubts Peter Nureyev would answer a booty call from mars at three am, from the guy who tried to have him locked up. 

He doesn’t need him. He hasn't needed him for thirty-eight years of his life, and he doesn't need him now. 

Doesn’t mean he can't imagine he’s here. 

Juno lays on his stomach, and closes his eyes. The context of the fantasy is meaningless. It doesn’t matter if Nureyev is a thief, it doesn't matter that he robbed him, lied to him, left. The point is that he’s here now. Maybe in the fantasy he never stole that key, and they never met on the case. Maybe they met at a shitty bar, or on a case where he wasn’t the thief, but had something stolen. Maybe he’s just another shitty guy that Juno is having sex with. Just more fuel for his self hatred, another bad idea. 

He imagines soft thin hands instead of his own sliding from his waist, over his thighs and ass briefly, before they move on to his chest. At first they would run over his nipples easily, and then tug at the piercings through them. He’s just a bit rough about it. Enough that it hurts when he pulls. Enough that Juno whimpers. 

Juno can imagine a chuckle almost perfectly a lot like his laugh, deeper from his chest. “ _ Oh Juno, you just need to be fucked, don't you?” _ His voice says in Juno’s head. It rings with similarity, and it almost feels like he can really hear it. 

“Yes,” Juno says quietly to a figment. He stuffs his face into the pillow, and slides his fingers between his folds, coming back up with wet fingers now to rub at his dick. He whimpers. His voice is more high pitched when he says. “Just need you.” 

But it isn’t enough, and the Peter Nureyev in his mind thinks so too. His hand opens the nightstand next to his bed, and rummages around for a toy. The bourbon wobbles precariously for a half second in his haste, but he doesn’t care. He’s been avoiding fucking himself to the thought of Peter Nureyev for too long to have any patience now. He digs his nails into the sheets as he presses the toy against himself, and turns it on. 

“ _ Fuck.”  _ Juno breathes. He squirms, rutting his cock against the vibrations, and bringing a hand to one of his tits again, imagining its him. Soft lips, pressed up against the back of his ear. Juno can almost feel him, his body poised over his own. 

“ _ Look at you, not so stubborn now. You’ve practically melted. _ ” He’s laughing at him, he knows, and Juno shivers at the thought of it. 

He hopes that if they ever had fucked, then he wouldn’t be this desperate, this needy. Though another part wonders if he’d be  _ worse _ . 

Juno slides the vibrator deep inside himself to stop thinking about it, and bites fown on the sheets. God, he always forgets how good it feels to have this. Would be even better were he actually here. If he could really kiss him and hear his words aloud as he would fuck him on this. With this  _ specifically,  _ as Juno tries not to think of the implications of Nureyev knowing where he keeps his vibrator, of how this imaginary replica of Nureyev knows the placement of such a thing in his apartment. 

Juno presses deep inside himself again, and can almost hear that self satisfied laugh he’d heard before. He thinks about feeling that laugh dust the back of his neck. He’d leave a scattering of kisses and marks on his neck and shoulders, muttering dirty words to him as he writhes. Juno moves with the thought of Nureyev fucking him with it. When he pushes it deep enough, whimpering whenever it gets to that point, he presses the heel of his hand up against his cock. 

He feels his chest again, moves his hand along his stomach and catches on the small belly button ring. He wonders if Nureyev would think it's sexy or desperate when his stomach jumps. A betraying part of him hopes that he’d praise him. Soft words in his needy mind that he won’t pick apart right now. He focuses on fucking himself with the vibrator, and pretending to hear words. Anything from a man probably lightyears away and forgotten about Juno. 

“ _ My god, you’re pretty.”  _ He’d murmur. “ _ You just fall right apart _ .  _ How lovely you look like this, darling. How silly you must feel for not coming with me. _ ”

Christ, he wants to punch himself for thinking that, but instead he fucks the toy into himself harder, and moans into his pillow. “ _ Ah, fuck-Nureyev-”  _ he takes it out for a moment to press it hard up against his cock, before he realizes how badly he needs to feel full. He pushes it back inside himself. This time he moves it faster, almost frantic towards a finish as he presses it right up against that perfect spot. The hand that had been digging his nails into his chest reaches down to rub his dick. He does so even harder, touching himself with jerky hands as he gets closer and closer. 

Finally, the orgasm slams through him. It feels like getting kicked in the chest, feels like a laser in the gut. He lets out a long moan against the pillow, continues to move his hands like stopping would kill him. Moves his hips as well, and presses his forehead hard into the pillow. Through the haze of pleasure, he can imagine a man with sharp teeth, a laugh that Juno misses so much it hurts. 

The orgasm passes after a while, and Juno takes the vibrator out, turns it off when it starts to overstimulate him. His hands are shaky, and he curses himself for it. He wishes Nureyev were really here, has since he started, and frankly much longer than that. He wants to get him off and be praised while doing it. He wants to have another time-stopping kiss over and over. Mostly, he wants to be held, to hear him talk about those plans of hopping from star to star. Listen to him speak about those thrills and decadence he talked about, must have experienced a million times over in that vast galaxy. He wants to fall to sleep, hearing him talk about it. 

Juno huffs angrily, very sleepy. He curls up in the blankets, studiously ignoring the wet spot he’s made on the bed. 

Fucking asshole, turning his world upsidedown and making Juno’s mind a home. 

At least he can finally goddamn sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Commenting is super hella mega epic. Validation is my sustenance.


End file.
